<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Conditions by BoxBraidBew</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710599">The Conditions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxBraidBew/pseuds/BoxBraidBew'>BoxBraidBew</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Reader, Black Character(s), Black Reader, Especially now that Shirou has entered the chat, F/M, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, LITERALLY, Mild Racism, My first fic, Original Character(s), Racism, Slow Burn, also reader is hot, beastmen trafficking, eventually, i think, idk how to tag so I’m just typing anything, it gets sweet i promise, like very mild, reader is a beastmen, shirou is coming, this is literally self indulgent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:42:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29710599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxBraidBew/pseuds/BoxBraidBew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ugh, I need to get up.’ You thought to yourself, but your body wouldn’t listen. The icy puddle of water that surrounded you kept you still. Its frigidity siphoned the strength you were gradually regaining from your body.<br/>DROP DROP<br/>Desperately, you interrogated yourself. ‘C’mon, think! What’s the last thing I remember?’ Searching the very recesses of your mind, your heart beat began to quicken.<br/>DROP DROP DROP<br/>Flames.. Heat.. Screaming..<br/>Scenes began to flash behind your eyelids as you recalled the most recent events before your lights went out.</p><p>Currently editing because I apparently can't write anymore until I fix my probably imaginary mistakes. 5/9/2021<br/>Chapter One has been edited. 5/9/2021</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ogami Shirou/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A long, long memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The story really starts here and will continue to take place in the 90’s. </p><p>For a reason! And not because I’m nostalgic!</p><p>Chile anyways.. enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Drip...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>’Cold… why do I feel so cold?’ You pondered. It was strange. You couldn’t tell where you were, or what you were feeling beyond the temperature you felt around you. Allowing just one thought at a time to form, your mind ebbed and waned as you slowly gained your consciousness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Another thought.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘It’s dark...Why can’t I see?’ You inquired to yourself as your skin prickled with new sensation. Arms, legs, hands, feet. One by one you flexed and twitched each limb and ligament until they felt like a part of your body once again. However, your eyes were still glued shut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>’Wait, that felt like water. Yes, water. Falling on my.. forehead? Where… where am I?’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You were more alert now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘I’m in a.. a puddle, I think.’ Sluggishly, you wiggled your arms and legs. Eventually confirming your suspicions and even then some because, yup, you were also naked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Ugh, I need to get up.’ You thought to yourself, but your body wouldn’t listen. The icy puddle of water that surrounded you kept you still. Its frigidity siphoned the strength you were gradually regaining from your body.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Desperately, you interrogated yourself. ‘C’mon, think! What’s the last thing I remember?’ Searching the very recesses of your mind, your heartbeat began to quicken.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>DROP DROP DROP</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Flames.. Heat.. Screaming..</em><br/>
<em>Scenes began to flash behind your eyelids as you recalled the most recent events before your lights went out.</em>
</p><p>************</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>~Do do doop dum</em><br/>
<em>Do do doop do doop da dum</em><br/>
<em>Do do doop dum~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The new Mariah Carey song flooded your head as you settled your headphones over your ears. You were careful of the position of the band at the top of your head as your scalp was still sore from your day old set of braids. You had rented Poetic Justice from Blockbuster the week before and immediately scheduled an appointment with your favorite African braider auntie that lived two floors down from you. That headbanded style had looked so good on Janet that you just <em>had</em> to try it out for yourself. </p><p>
  <em>~We were as one, babe</em><br/>
<em>For a moment in time</em><br/>
<em>And it seemed everlasting</em><br/>
<em>That you would always be mine~</em>
</p><p>After finding a comfortable earphone position, you got to work on lacing up your fresh white K-Swisses and headed out your apartment door. Today, you were going to the grand opening of <em>CyberBay</em>, a brand new cyber café a couple blocks from your building. You had seen the 'Coming Soon' sign a couple of months back and felt your interest piqued at the premise of accessible computers in your neighborhood.  You lived in a cohabitated area of mostly avian beastmen and humans in Washington D.C., and while the area was self separated between the races and tensions were always high, the thought of a cyber café as a commonly shared space brought you a shrivel of hope for the future. Even though you knew better. For reasons only known to you, you were currently passing yourself off as human and so far, the people that lived around you were none the wiser. Your braids swayed against your back as you stepped out on the side walk and began your journey.</p><p>
  <em>~And we'll linger on</em><br/>
<em>Time can't erase a feelin' this strong</em><br/>
<em>No way you're never gonna shake me</em><br/>
<em>Oh darlin' cause you'll always be my baby~</em>
</p><p>About a month ago, you had come home to a note slipped under your door. It's contents read of nothing but a website url and a password. Unfazed, you tossed it on your small kitchen counter to be forgotten about until today. You tapped the back pocket of your oversize jeans to confirm that the note was still there as you stepped up to the stop light. You already knew who it was that sent the letter, and probably what the mystery website would say, but making the sender wait a month to hear back from you with the sole excuse that you were waiting for the cyber café to open up brought a childish grin to your face. The sender deserved it. </p><p>
  <em>~But inevitably you'll be back again</em><br/>
<em>'Cause you know in your heart, babe</em><br/>
<em>Our love will never end, no~</em>
</p><p>A particularly noisy food truck passed by on the street in front of you, kicking up and sending flying some old , fallen <em>Have You Seen Me?</em>  posters of women and children and puffing out gross black exhaust smoke. You turned up the volume on your walkman. </p><p>
  <em>~You'll always be apart of me</em><br/>
<em>I'm part of you indefinitely</em><br/>
<em>Boy don't you know you can't escape me</em><br/>
<em>Oh darlin' 'cause you'll always be my baby~</em>
</p><p>Man, there was just something about this song that made you keep it on repeat! The light turned green signaling you were okay to pass the street and you moved. One foot in front of the other and you could finally see the neon <em>CyberBay</em> sign. There! One more block! Just as you reached the next side walk, a white windowless van pulled up behind you in an abrupt stop. Hands grabbed at your hair causing you to skid to a halt with a surprised cry. As if it was all in one fluid motion, you were yanked by your arms by two masked figures, and hauled into the back of the van. Your panic had flared for only seconds before a cloth was shoved onto your face. Your fight or flight instincts caught too unaware. </p><p>“Help!” you managed to gasp out only to then inhale a sweet and sterile scent. ‘Chloroform!’ This was bad! You held your breath but the effects were already kicking in. Your eyes grew heavy and your limbs felt like they weighed 100 lbs each.</p><p>‘No, nononono NO’ You bucked and struggled to move out of their grasp as a last ditch effort to fight your way out. But the figures had you pinned to the van floor. One on each side of you, their knees on your forearms and legs to keep you still. Somebody had their forearm on your back, squeezing the air from your lungs to force you to breathe more of that noxious odor.</p><p>“Come on little chimp.~” one of them sang into your ear, “Go ahead and take a breath, you look so tired. Just take a nap baby.”</p><p>You attempted to wiggle away, but your lungs were burning.</p><p>“You know, you’re not half bad for a little blackie.” he spoke again, “But I want to see what you really look like, you beastie. Now <em>turn</em>.”</p><p>With that last word, he pushed even harder onto your back, leaving you no choice but to let your body preserve itself. Heave after heave, you chased each breath that was wrung out from your lungs, inevitably drinking in those knockout chemicals. The adrenaline had coursed through your veins and pushed you to obey your kidnapper. You morphed. And they gasped.</p><p>The words, ‘<em>How did they know</em>?’ Echoed through your mind as you body inevitably gave up the fight, and you finally fell asleep. Head thunking against the cold, steel floor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry about the kidnapper dialogue, if it seemed corny then i didn't write it!  it wasn't me!</p><p>This chapter was edited 5/9/2021. I wasn't a fan of how I initially wrote it so I changed it to better match my tastes. It just wasn't something that I would be satisfied with in a fic and now I like it 100x better! Happy reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Take a picture, it'll last longer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ahh my longest chapter yet! I wanted to crank this chapter out by today so here it is. </p><p>Reader's backstory inside a backstory continues! Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You woke with a start. Then immediately wished you hadn’t woken up at all because good LORD, your head hurt like the Dickens. It couldn’t be possible how you were even conscious, your brain felt as if it was being shattered over and over again, intensifying with each pump and thump of your heart. Carefully, you lifted your head to discover that you were strapped to a chair with an embarrassingly copious amount of zip ties. </p><p>“What the-” you breathed out, only to be responded to with a sharp snap of fingers. The startling sound whipped your neck in attention to see that there was someone also strapped to a chair next to you. Good lord, she looked terrible. Wrapped over and over again with tape, the poor woman looked like she’d been stuck there for days. You noticed her hair was greasy and plastered to her neck and forehead. Her pale complexion pallid and next to transparent, was striking against the contrast of her dark and bloodshot eyes. You briefly wondered if you looked the same as cold beads of sweat ran down your back and forehead. </p><p>“Please don’t be more people, please don’t be more people” you silently muttered under your breath. Turning your head to your left, you soon discovered that there, in fact, were more people. Five more. Two more women and three girls-as young as five or six. ‘Too young’ you thought. All of their eyes were trained on you. The gaze the women had trained on you looked like that of disappointment to see another woman captured. The gaze of the children… </p><p>Hold up. </p><p>‘The children!’ They were beastmen! One, a rabbit. Another, a red panda and the other was a meerkat. Their small whimpers and soiled clothes were a clear sign that they were simply too frightened to morph out of their natural states. Your movements must have woken them from their tired and restless sleep as their eyes blearily landed on your form. Quiet tears began streaming down the young meerkat’s face upon realization that one more was added to suffer along with them. Your heart broke into a thousand pieces and simultaneously roared to life inside your chest. ‘Were they-”</p><p>A single and frantic look into the knowing eyes of the women bound in the chairs beside them had given you all the answer you needed.  </p><p>Beastmen traffickers. </p><p>Bile caught in your throat as you fought the intense urge to spit. You thought you had gotten rid of them all ages ago but it seemed as though they were a pest that refused to die. ‘Bastards,’ you thought. ‘I think I’ll castrate them all.’ The notion itself made your nerves sing and your skin heat with your rising anger. </p><p>“No.” you mouthed to yourself. “Be calm girl, be still.” you commanded yourself. A mantra you lived by. This was the worst place to lose your temper in.  ‘Too many innocents.’ you reminded yourself.  </p><p>In great efforts to calm yourself down, you took three deep breaths. Each painful inhale reminded you of the two utter pieces of garbage that kidnapped you off the street. Right. They had seen your beast form. Before you had slipped into unconsciousness, you had noticed that they seemed surprised by your form. Well, everyone that had seen you as a beastman had never seen one like you before, so that was a given. So long as they didn’t realize what kind of beastman you were, you figured you were in the clear. ‘Let's hope they don’t believe in fairy tales or myths.’ you thought. If word got out about you one more gain... Many eras had taught you that nothing ever good came from it and you were way too tired to be doing all that running.</p><p>Seconds passed and your body temperature felt like it decreased significantly. Okay, you had to get these girls out of here. ASAP. You had felt helpless during your kidnapping, surprise acting as your greatest enemy. But one thing you counted on was that you were never surprised by the same people twice. Never.</p><p>Settling into your new resolve, you heightened your senses. First things first, figure out where the heck you were. </p><p>Straight ahead, you noticed a closed doorway that was two light posts tall and three sixteen wheelers wide. To your left, there was a perfect line of small aircraft along the wall and some fuel barrels. You then turned your head to the right and noticed a wall of built in offices. Doors and windows facing out to the inside of the aircraft hangar that you all were in. Right as you were about to conclude that you were all blessedly there alone for the moment, you noticed a light on in the office farthest from you. Right next to the large doorway.</p><p>You honed in on your sense of hearing. Sifting through the small whines next to you, you could hear gruff voices in conversation emanate from the office’s open door. Latching onto the conversation, you willed your ears to pick up even the passage of blood through their ventricles. </p><p>“Yes sir.” a voice said. “The last one was shipped in this morning. The order for three young and three full grown pets has been completed. Now we just have to wait for pick-up.”</p><p>‘Pets?’ oh you could just wring his neck right now. </p><p>“Excellent. Right on time.” another, more gravelly, voice stated. “I know I can always count on you for these more...dirty orders. I think this will be the last one for a while. Those... things, always stink up my hangar. I bet their fur holds funk like a fart under the blanket.” he wheezed at his own joke. </p><p>‘If only he’d choke too.’ you were already tired of him. The type to like the sound of their own voice. </p><p>“Now!’ he clapped. “Let’s get a good look at our newest merchandise.” with that, the light blinked off and you heard multiple footsteps make their way to the office door. </p><p>As if on instinct, you ducked your head and fell limp with your eyes closed and waited for them. Better for them to see your sleeping form and unconscious state than to look into fierce eyes, that your hatred couldn’t let you hide, and realize that you were feisty. Feisty ones always had more restraints. </p><p>Clop</p><p>Clop</p><p>Clop, went their footsteps as you waited what felt like ages in anticipation for them to reach you. The hangar you all were in was probably a football field wide. Which placed you and the office they were in at opposite in-zones. After another age, they finally reached you. The boss man and his two stooges. </p><p>Heavy steps and labored breathing placed the leader right in front of you. </p><p>“Are those... zip-ties?” the gruff voice asked.</p><p>“We, uh, we ran out of tape, sir.” one answered. The boss probably rolled his eyes. He bent down, cupped your face, and whistled. His cigar scented breath almost offended you out of your fake sleep.</p><p>“My, my, my… she’s a looker for an Afro girl.” he drawled. “However, my client specifically asked for no ebonies.” His hold on you tightened. “So tell me, Gerry, why am I looking at one?” his voice dropped an octave.</p><p>“W-Well, sir, we j-just followed it’s beastman heat signature and scooped it without a thought. We realized that it didn’t match the order so we, Lorn and I, decided to keep it for ourselves to have fun with. That is, until we saw it turn. Sir.” he stammered out.</p><p>“Oh?” the boss returned. His tone was cold yet intrigued. “I might have to get a look myself then.”</p><p>“Y-Yes!”, Lorn, you guessed said. “The most striking one yet! Almost didn’t believe my eyes when I saw it. Looked like it was glowing!”</p><p>“Hmm, well if it’s as you say, then maybe I can sell her separately at a higher price.” Releasing your chin, the boss’s foot tapped in contemplation. “In the meantime, I need another beastie to fill this order immediately. The client is on his way here and I promised him we had everything he wished for. You imbeciles have four hours to catch one before he gets here. Now go and don’t embarrass me!” he stomped.</p><p>You heard two footsteps scurry to a door behind you. The clang of the closing door left the boss in front of you.</p><p>All. By. Himself. </p><p>“Perfect.” you state. Not even leaving the burly man time to react and shout to his lackeys outside, you thrusted your right arm at his neck, snapping the zip ties like it was your patience with him. Clutching his neck and shutting him up, you took a breath, transitioning into your beast form. His eyes widened as your skin prickled and hummed. Gold and copper feathers covering your forearms and lower legs where your brown melanin once was in an almost silk like sheen. Talons grew where your nails were and the muscles and bones in your back shifted as they made way for your wings. Your glorious wings. They bloomed out of your back, tearing the back of your shirt. Two, two meter long wings flexed and shook to life, boasting white feathers at their joints as they bled into shimmering colors of gold in the middle and blazing crimson at the ends and tips. The color of your box braids also shifted to orange and red as they slowly danced in the air like they were underwater.</p><p>“Like what you see?” the smooth and resonant timbre of your voice rang like large brass bells.</p><p>If your fist wasn’t around that ugly man’s neck then perhaps he would’ve gasped like all the others did too.  </p><p>“Thirty more seconds~” you sang as you watched him pathetically scratch and pull at your arm to free himself. </p><p>“Three, two, one.” Right on time, he slumped to the ground and you sprang into action. </p><p>His lackeys were probably in that godforsaken van and headed out on the road by now, so you had exactly four hours to get these girls out of here to safety, and make it back here in time to have these cavemen arrested for good. Looking about the space for something to tie the man up in, you spotted a coil of rope hanging on the wall, directly behind your chair. </p><p>‘They really are some dummies.’ you thought as you grabbed the rope and hosted the man into the chair you once sat in. You quickly bound him up tightly. Ensuring he couldn’t move even his chest beyond a short breath.</p><p>Standing up, you turned to the women and children around you. Their eyes were brightened in awe and hope, the Meerkat’s once dark and pitiful eyes were now round as saucers at the vision of you. </p><p>You eyed each one of them as you declared your oath, “I’m going to get you out of here.”</p><p>Your nerves sparked as you finally, after a single era, reprised your age-old role. The savior of all Beastmen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hehehe, what yall think? I'm trying to pace this story and also not give my hands cramps as I never type this much lol.</p><p>So what kind of animal do yall think Reader is? i gave pretty obvious hints so i think yall got it anyway.</p><p>also about shirou, my love..... he's coming! eventually... after two more chapters i think! please just thug through it! the fluff will get here eventually! </p><p>one more thing, does anyone know how to keep italicized words on here? when i paste it to the site, they return to normal:(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Plan, huh?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ten minutes. </p>
<p>It had officially been about ten minutes since you knocked out the boss man and freed the women and children from their binds. It’s also officially been about ten minutes that you’ve completely wasted because you had no clue what to do next.  Keeping up your “beast form” was taking too many brain cells to manage, so you morphed back to your regular self, giving yourself the “brain space” to think more clearly. </p>
<p>The second the last feather melded back with your skin, you sighed. With the strain gone, you immediately conjured up a plan. And then you scratched it because in order for it to work, you needed to know your location. </p>
<p>Right, because where the heck were y’all at anyway? </p>
<p>To find out, you turned to that big bodied lump in the chair and slapped him awake. </p>
<p>And you slapped him again. </p>
<p>And again.  </p>
<p>“Aww c’mon, man!” your leather strapped flats hit the concrete floor in a rigid line. You were pacing back and forth, while at the same, time trying to figure out where your head just went. </p>
<p>How could you be so stupid? So dumb? You <em> must </em> be Boo Boo the Fool because how else on <em> Earth </em> did you just knock out the only man left in the <em> whole, empty </em> building that knew where you all were? A little lying threat to his stinkin’ life would’ve been enough to bribe him to at least show you where you were on a map, but now he was slumped in the chair and probably hibernating through the next winter!</p>
<p>“Y/n, you clown!” There were probably groves in the floor now, the large holes in the back of your shirt making the fabric billow with every sharp turn you made. </p>
<p>“Um...M-Miss?” </p>
<p>“WHAT?” you spat, stopping in your tracks and shooting your eyes in the direction of whichever hostage dared to speak while you were in self deprecation mode.  “Can’t you see I’m devising a plan here!” </p>
<p>You looked out over them and instantly wanted to suck those words you just spat back into your mouth.  Yeah, perhaps they couldn’t see that at all. But what they could see, you surmised, was a young black woman muttering to herself and slapping a -for all they knew- dead man. Your crazed pacing back and forth was just the icing on the koo koo cake. </p>
<p>“Oh, sorry!” you placated. “He’s not dead! Just knocked out till next year, probably.” you had your hands up and palms out as if you were the one trying to calm them down. </p>
<p>“I’ll get y’all out of here like I promised, I just don’t know where we are in order to do that. I was going to ask this man but…uh..yeah.” you explained, nervousness crept up to itch the back of your neck. </p>
<p>You braced yourself for some kind of incredulous reaction from them, however, you instead saw the little red panda girl slowly lift her arm and point to something behind you. You followed the line of her little finger and mentally slapped yourself in the face the same amount of times you did that dolt of a boss.  </p>
<p>Not only was a map there on the wall, but there was also a rack of car keys and a coat rack.</p>
<p>“Maybe I should change my epithet to the ‘Humiliation of all Beastmen.’” you mumbled to yourself as you skittered over to the map.  Before taking a thorough look, you glanced back at the pack of girls behind you and beckoned them over. If we're supposed to leave and get to safety, then a few extra brains won’t hurt the process.</p>
<p>“Okay!” you start, “Star marks the spot. If we find that then we know where we are.” Not two seconds later, you felt a tap on your thigh and turned to the rabbit girl. </p>
<p>“I t-think we’re h-h-here.” she stammered and tapped on the single star on the map. </p>
<p>Quantico, Virginia. Home of the lauded FBI Academy among other enforcement bureaus. Either these goons are stupid or they’re really stupid. Conducting illegal business so close to the academy and just a drive on the interstate from the real headquarters was ludicrous, or maybe they were just hiding in plain sight. ‘No matter,’ you thought, ‘now I know where to get everyone to safety.’</p>
<p>Since the weirdly named Man Nor Beast Act of 1973 was passed about 23 years ago, and outlawed trafficking of any kind of person, all forms of law enforcement buildings were included to act as a safe haven for runaway or abused beastmen. Since then, the law enforcers had been holding up the deal. You’d  made sure to check. So dropping them off at the academy would be their best bet. </p>
<p>Now to get there.</p>
<p>“It looks like we’re about eight miles away from where the FBI Academy should be.” said the other woman. Her hair was light brown and cropped in an asymmetrical bob. The tight curl of her short bangs long since fallen flat. </p>
<p>“Are you... from this area?” you inquired, wondering how she knew the academy’s address. </p>
<p>“Yes, my boyfriend started training there about four weeks ago.” </p>
<p>“Great,” you twirled a pair of keys that you swiped from the wall around your finger and tossed them to her. “You’re driving.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“JESUS, JOSEPH, AND MARY! LORN WHY ARE YOU BEHIND THE WHEEL? WHERE IS DRIVER?!” </p>
<p>Anxious to please their boss, the two henchmen, Gerry and Lorn raced to the nearest county in the search of the final woman to complete the order. However, in their haste, they seemed to have forgotten the fact that neither of them were exceptional drivers. No, not even sub par. </p>
<p>“Driver has the day off!” Lorn defensively shot back. </p>
<p>THUMP! KER-BUMP!</p>
<p>“ARE YOU TRYING TO HIT EVERY CURB ON THE STREET?! THAT’S THE FIFTH ONE AND WE’VE ONLY TURNED TWICE.”</p>
<p>Gerry, hollering every curse known in the English language, was simply beside himself. Not only was Boss going to kill them for not having the order right in the first place, but Lorn was also going to kill them from simply driving through the streets like a bat out of hell. </p>
<p>KA-BUMP!</p>
<p>“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll straighten out! I promise!”</p>
<p>Gerry, could only futilely pray while he held on to whatever handle he could find for dear life.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The short haired woman half haphazardly caught the keys you had thrown her, her muscles betraying her from the days of disuse. </p>
<p>“Rad.” She croaked out, upon examining the keys and noticing a Jaguar logo. How nice, the boss was giving his car to us. You motioned for everyone to leave when you saw the girl stop mid-stride.</p>
<p>“Wait, there’s something I need from the boss’s office.” She whispered out, cautiously eyeing the said man in the chair. </p>
<p>“Girl, what?” you blinked. You needed to <em> leave. </em></p>
<p>“It’s…important. Something my boyfriend gave me. Please, we can’t leave without it. Please...”</p>
<p>You almost gaped at her. Your lives were at stake here and she wanted to salvage some little anniversary gift from her boyfriend?! Looking at her again you prepared to give her a resolute ‘No.’ but it stopped short in your throat. As frail as she looked, her expression was anything but. </p>
<p>With an unmoving look in her eye, she demanded again, “<em> We </em>need it.” </p>
<p>“Fine!” In utter defeat, you let out a loud huff. “What? What is it? What does it look like?”</p>
<p>She began fiddling with her fingers, “It’s a ...pager.”</p>
<p>“A PAG-”</p>
<p>“It’s also a tracking device!” she declared on top of you. Your face immediately twisted into a look of utter bafflement. Just what kind of relationship were they in??!</p>
<p>“Look, I know it’s weird, but he, like, gave it to me in case anything dangerous happened to me. He’s a FBI trainee, remember? I figured once we leave and arrive at the academy, you could, like, I don’t know fly back here with it so they would know where we were kept. Or something.” The tip of her boot was digging into the floor and swinging her foot back and forth. </p>
<p>A smile crept up your face at her brilliant plan. </p>
<p>“Well, why ain’t you just say that then.” Your wings rose from your back and stretched. They flapped in long motions once, twice, and then you were gliding the hundred yards to the office at the other end of the hangar within seconds. </p>
<p>Kicking your feet out in front of you, you gracefully landed and sauntered into the office like it was yours. Your fingers flicked the light on and you began your search, however anticlimactic it was, since you spotted it just sitting on the grand desk.  You strode over, moving the chair out of the way and picked up the pager and tossed it in the air in hopes of catching it in a cool way. However, the stupid thing bounced off your thumb and landed back on the desk with a thump. </p>
<p>Moving to pick it back up, one of the many scrambled papers on the desk caught your eye. One word in specific was holding your attention by the neck.</p>
<p>Storehouse.</p>
<p>The hand that way moving toward the pager instead grabbed the paper. Quickly, you read it’s contents, hoping beyond all hope that what you read would prove that it’s just for storing lifeless, inanimate, supplies and not-</p>
<p>The claws on your fingers that were, just a moment ago, nails punctured holes into the paper as it crumpled and burned to ash in your palm. You clenched your hand into a fist, squeezing the ash out onto the papers below. The holes in the back of your shirt grew larger as the edges turned black and began to smolder. </p>
<p>One location, about twenty miles west from where you stood. A “storehouse” was under construction, expected to be completed in July of 1994.</p>
<p>It’s purpose: Facilitating live customer “orders” and “merchandise” for onsite purchasing. </p>
<p>You were going to burn it to the ground. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been really trying to improve my writing style since I wasn't all that happy with it the first 3 chapters. Who knows, maybe I'll edit those later.</p>
<p>I hope y'all are enjoying my story.  And trust me, i want Shirou to show up about as much as you probably do but it just doesn't feel right to add him at this time. But he's coming! I promise!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Objective: Received</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A new mission from Shirou's pov.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*hits post and runs away*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>6:35 PM EST</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at his watch for the tenth time since the hour turned. Approximately three hours and twenty four minutes left until landing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surrounded by dozens of suitcases, he shifted in his makeshift sleeping area inside the plane’s cargo bay and dropped his arm back to his side with a sigh. After laying there for hours, he felt a small pain at the nape of his neck slowly grow into something of an annoyance. The perpetrator: A silver button on the new biker jacket he was laying on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Whatever’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. Stubbornly, he continued to lay in that same position, refusing to move his head. Instead, he gathered his focus on the mission that lied ahead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In recent weeks, civil unrest had risen in Western Europe. Radicals were protesting against Beastmen being granted rights to have seats in government. England had started the uprising, and other surrounding countries were following. Politicians were rallying for progressivity but the people weren’t ready for the idea of Beastmen contributing to national policy. The human citizens were at first uncertain, but then, their uncertainty turned into apprehensiveness. Their apprehensiveness then turned into conspiracy. Their conspiracy then turned into fear, and their fear rooted deep into their minds and brought forth anger. The last couple of weeks had turned from bad to worse. Beastmen allocated residential buildings and neighborhoods had become targets of vandalism and arson. London, England had grown to be the epicenter of such brutality as of late and Shirou had come running. The blood and cries of his people were calling out to him, every fiber of his being was abuzz with the need to protect the innocents, and to </span>
  <em>
    <span>punish</span>
  </em>
  <span> the cruel.  It took him seven days to extinguish the hate crimes. His bare hands all that he needed to infiltrate the self titled “Fur Trappers’” base of operation and take out the so-called leaders. The rest of the followers were easy pickings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his days in the city, rumours had risen of a blue wolf beastman that would appear on random street corners, in alleys or during the scene of a hate crime, leaving battered and bruised people tied up and waiting for the tipped off police. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The media were calling him an unknown vigilante. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Beastmen were calling him a hero.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever it was that he was being called, he needed to pack up and leave. Being an anonymous hero has been a tough image to maintain over the past couple of decades and he intended it to stay that way. His goal of thwarting the Fur Trappers had been met and so it was time to head back to his new hideout in Japan with Kuro in tow. At least, that was the plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours before his plane departed for Tokyo, Shirou sat at the open window of the seedy pub room he was lodging in. The world news channel was playing on the tv in the background, but all it served was a low din to the otherwise quiet street he was on. The lone man was staring up at the grey skies, letting the brisk breeze winding through his shoulder length hair pull his thoughts from him, and out to wherever the wind desired, when a shrill noise sounded from his waist. Pulled from his own head, he snapped the pager from his jeans and saw that he had an incoming message. Kuro, his black avian friend hopped off the sill onto Shirou’s arm and tapped his beak on the small, plastic device to silence the jarring noise. Together, they waited a short moment for the sender’s number to flash on the screen. Immediately recognizing the number as one of emergency, he jumped off his perch on the window and bounded his way outside towards the nearest telephone box. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three rings. The phone rang three times and on the fourth ring did Shirou hear the sound of a phone being picked up on the other end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?” was all that he said, skipping the formalites. His deep voice caused the line to crackle with its rumble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The United States. In northern Virginia, somewhere near the D.C. area.” said a woman’s calm and measured voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, and who?,” he demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A beastmen trafficking base is being built and coded as a supply storehouse. It’s expected that this will become the main hub for trafficking along the American east coast. There are no leads so far as to who exactly this facility truly belongs to. However, only a few filler names have been revealed to shake anyone that is looking into this off of their tails. All I’ve been able to gain is that there’s a man, only known so far as ‘The Client’, that’s supposed to arrive there soon to make a </span>
  <em>
    <span>purchase.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the measure of her words wavered at the last line spoken. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Trafficking?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thought Shirou. It had been decades since he’d last heard of beastmen being sold in the States. Every time he had geared himself to stomp out the spread out operations, they’d already been mysteriously thwarted. The perps, already sitting cozy in their fresh prison cells. No matter, the notion of an operation of that size popping up now was already making his gut twist. His grip on the phone tightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I switch my flight?” Shirou grounded out through clenched teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no time. I found a charter plane scheduled to depart in one hour and forty minutes. Make your way on that vessel, and you’ll have a straight shot to the destination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he also-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Now be careful and cautious. I don’t know who this man is but he must be important enough to warrant an entourage of twenty bodyguards, so be mindful as to hold your temper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Alright,” he hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not enough. I need you to make a promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, B…. I- I promise. Is the local government already involved? They’ve got that beastmen act over there don’t they-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you worry about that,” she interjected. “There’s been something amiss about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> case in particular that’s got their law enforcement dragging their feet. They haven’t engaged yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not surprising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S, you must, on your own, take it down quickly and quietly before it is too late. The location of the charter airport has already been sent to your inbox. Make haste.” The line went dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasting no time, Shirou made his way to the nearest cyber cafe, logged into the encrypted messaging site that B had set up for him, jotted down his destination, and made his move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours had since passed after he and Kuro narrowly snuck onto The Client’s chartered plane. The knowledge that he was so close made Shirou’s nerves buzz. The mental restraint alone was zapping his energy. With only a few feet of steel separating them, it would be just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take him out now, but he knew better. However disgusting this man was, he needed him to lead him to the storehouse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>During his brief struggle of stowing away in the cargo bay, Shirou had tried to single out the passengers to see if he could find a face to match the big wig’s name but came up short. To B’s credit, there were just too many armed bodyguards crawling the place for him to find even a decent vantage point. The only thing he could do was sniff out the single heavy and expensive scent of cologne within a two mile radius. Following that at a loose distance would be his best bet to arrive at his destination. All he had to do now was bide is time and wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wait. Shirou stared at the ceiling. Another, long winded sigh escaped him as he used this time to think back on all that he had done to protect his people over the centuries. All for it to eventually not even matter, because no matter what he did, time </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> erased his efforts. History </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> repeated itself. Justice </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> needed to be served. And so in effect, Shirou always needed to be the one to serve it. He was used to it.  For generations, he did what had to be done. Humans always found a way to selfishly disturb their peace, intentional or not. Whether they were starting wars over imaginary borders, causing irreparable damage to the earth and in turn, their own communities, or destroying each other due to the simple fact that their differing DNA sequences caused their skin tone and features to vary in color, it was all so disgusting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a chortle. Humans </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shirou. He could only hope that they’d one day move their fickle minds off of beastmen for good. But until then, he’d always be there. Protecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shirou stayed in his thoughts until the loud drone of the plane finally lulled his eyelids to close and Kuro nestled himself onto a plush duffel bag neither would move from their spot until the plane would finally make it’s landing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p>
  <span>11:38 PM EST</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plane had touched down some time ago and The Client and his entourage had not moved from the airport. Instead, they simply departed from the plane only to make it to the small yet lavish sitting area inside the main building. Shirou had managed to extract himself from the plane’s cargo hold and swiftly made it behind an abandoned luggage cart somewhere off to the side of the building. The paint was peeling and the tires were cracked, which indicated that this particular cart was left unattended. The perfect spot to eavesdrop from, unnoticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, some officials from the FBI Academy in Quantico had been tipped off to some women and children beastmen being kidnapped to serve as a trafficking order. The aircraft hangar that The Client was preparing to visit to make his purchase had already been swarmed by local law enforcement. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Again?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> The trafficking op was </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> thwarted before he could do anything. Just who was behind all this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cut from his musings, Shirou’s ears twitched at the mention of the Storehouse. There was no news of any enforcement there so they had decided to check on the progress instead of waiting around like sitting ducks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From his vantage point, all that could be seen was the back of who he assumed was The Client, his cologne somehow even stronger than before. Wearing a black pinstripe suit and donning a thick head of gelled back raven hair, he remained still, save for the occasional sip of his red wine, and he seemed calm, despite his previous plan being ruined. At deciding to make their way to the Storehouse instead, his lackeys turned their heads toward him and waited for a confirmation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slow, single head nod was all that he gave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, they readied the bodyguards, prepared the cars and the limousine, and headed out, moving westward. Shirou, too, picked up and began his pursuit a half mile behind in an old and sputtering truck that he had found in an abandoned shed at the far end of the airport strip. Kuro had taken to the skies, the dark of the cloudless and moonless night providing him cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an hour and a half of driving on dark country roads through the seemingly never ending Virginian forests, Kuro had circled Shirou’s car once, signaling that The Client’s caravan had stopped. Cutting the headlights and pulling over, he parked the truck and crept the rest of the way on foot, relying on his heightened scent from his beast form and Kuro’s signaling crows to guide the rest of the way. The dense wood around him reminded Shirou briefly of the land of his long forgotten home Nirvasyl, that is, before he stopped in his tracks about a hundred yards from what he could only assume was the Storehouse. The shock from the sight before him almost had him stunned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His beast form dissipated from him as he prepared himself for the worst. Not only had the claimed, “under construction,” Storehouse already completed for what seemed like months, but it was fully operational with multiple smaller buildings flanking the main warehouse on each side. One of said buildings looked an awful lot like a nightclub with flashing lights, another looked like a small luxury hotel with a pool to match. The whole thing would’ve seemed like some displaced Las Vegas resort, had the entire compound not been fenced in and </span>
  <em>
    <span>crawling</span>
  </em>
  <span> with armed guards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly gaining a new understanding of this unexpected turn of events, Shirou knew he had to take each step he took from here on out carefully.  One wrong move and it was game over, especially if they saw him as a beastman. He’d just have to forego his true form for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Observing the guards, the silver maned man weighed his options. He needed to raise the least amount of alarms as possible while still getting each and every beastman out of the compound alive.  The guards walked about the grounds in a normal enough pattern, but something seemed off. When they crossed in passing, they didn’t so much as acknowledge each other, not even looking their comrade in the face. The awkward air about them was a classic hole in military defenses but tonight, it was a perfect in for Shirou. The hired militia not even recognizing their own guardsmen would give him cover if he donned a poor unsuspecting man’s artillery uniform, and that was exactly what he was going to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gaining a new directive, he made a single step forward before he heard a warning squawk from Kuro but it was already too late. Shirou was yanked back by the corded collar on his neck, causing him to trip backwards. Before he could react in defense, the back of his left knee was kicked out from under him, instantly dropping him to his knees as his neck was swiftly braced by someone’s forearm while the crown of his head was being pushed forward. In the span of two seconds someone had Shirou gripped in a chokehold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fight if you want to live.” came a woman's low voice. The clear, yet resonant, timbre of her clipped words being pressed to his ear caused a slow shiver to snake it’s way down his spine. His pupils dilated as his will to fight back was simply wiped from his mind like the day’s lesson erased from a chalkboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This voice, it filled him. It soothed him. It refreshed him like a glass of cool water after a day’s walk in the middle of the desert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shirou would do anything to comply. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Told y'all he was coming!!!! hehe. anyway, sorry it took so long to post again. writer's block and work fatigue is REAL. the good news is that i finally found an actual direction for this story and i have it all in writing! i just have to plan out some more chapter outlines. there's also a high chance of slow burn happening. okay, its 100% happening so get ready! there's gonna be some inevitable angst for our babies too. i will tag as i go along. but thanks for reading so far! 300+ hits and 18 kudos i truly didn't think i'd even get that far so thanks bews!</p><p>anywho, questions? comments? concerns? complaints? flames? anything?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>